In All Their Looks And Words
by Sir Gawaine
Summary: Colin's first day.


**A/N – Because there is not enough Malcolm and Colin and it needs to be rectified.**

'The new guy' Lucas called him, and that was about all the introduction that Colin Wells got before he arrived on the Grid that grey Monday morning in March.

"Everyone, this is Colin Wells," Harry said, sweeping past on the way from his office to the conference room, "Colin, welcome to Section D. I'll let the team make their own introductions."

It was brusque, even for Harry, but as usual, all hell was breaking loose and there was little time for pleasantries. Malcolm watched carefully from his desk as Colin was left standing awkwardly, clutching his briefcase. He was a nervous looking chap, a good fifteen years younger than Malcolm himself, and he watched the Grid from behind a pair of ill-fitting spectacles. He wore a dark green shirt under a light blue jumper and where his trousers had ridden up slightly, Malcolm could see odd socks that perfectly matched the blue and the green. Malcolm felt a twinge of sympathy and a dash of amusement and made to stand up, but Lucas got there first.

"Colin," he smiled, taking the man's hand in his own, "I'm Lucas. Lucas North. Pleased to meet you."

"C-Colin."

Malcolm smiled behind his hand. Lucas had that effect on people. Malcolm himself had been unable to believe that someone like Lucas North, someone so beautiful and so composed, would ever have time and a smile for someone like him and would ever want anything more to do with him than he needed to. Malcolm had never been bullied by people like Lucas but he had been ignored. Colin had the look of someone who had been pushed around by them. Lucas would be a revelation for him, then.

"You've arrived right in the middle of the end of the world," Lucas smiled, "Don't mind Harry, he doesn't mean to be dismissive. He's actually quite pleasant once you get to know him. This is Malcolm. He'll set you up with your desk and everything."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the meeting room behind the rest of the team. As a courtesy, Malcolm would usually have been invited to join them, but this morning, it seemed, his role had been made very clear.

"Malcolm Wynn-Jones," he said, offering his hand and a small smile, "Welcome to Section D."

The only empty desk was right behind Malcolm's, vacated by the techie who Colin was there to replace and, in a fit of camaraderie, Malcolm perched on the edge of it and gave Colin another reassuring smile.

"So where did Harry acquire you from?"

"Section A," Colin said, "But they got me right out of the computer company I joined after university."

"Oh, what university was that?"

"Nottingham. Let me guess, you're Cambridge alumni?"

"I am," Malcolm said, surprised, "What made you guess that?"

"Always the Oxbridge people who want to know your university before they know anything else."

It could have been a jibe but Colin's shy smile told Malcolm it was anything but."

"We do have that unfortunate affliction," he laughed, setting Colin at ease for what seemed like the first time, "Forgive us."

"So what's the story?" Colin nodded towards the meeting room, where a heated debate seemed to be taking place, "Shouldn't you be working on that, rather than babysitting me?"

"I'm running some searches. They don't need me to argue at the moment, they're perfectly capable of doing that themselves. Let me show you around, they'll need us soon enough."

The day passed with little fanfare. The world didn't end, Harry cracked a smile, and Lucas insisted that they go for drinks in The George to give Colin a real welcome. Colin didn't look particularly enthused at this idea but when Malcolm said he would go too, he brightened up considerably.

Colin drank beer, the same beer as Lucas did, it turned out, and for a surprisingly long time they held an animated discussion on the various foreign beers they had tried at some point or another. Harry rolled his eyes and ordered whisky for himself and Malcolm, a gin and tonic for Connie, red wine for Amelia. Malcolm listened contentedly to Colin and Lucas, less than half an ear on Harry and Connie in the corner. The pub was warm and the whisky – _his third? – _had given him a pleasant buzz in his ears that made the noise of the pub really rather comforting as opposed to grating. When Connie shook him gently at the end of the night, he did not even know what time it was.

"Come on," she said, "Time to go."

"I'm fine," he informed her, disproving his point immediately when he stumbled to his feet, "I'm not drunk."

He wasn't really, more tired than anything else, but she wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him outside anyway. Amelia had left hours before, claiming some other engagement, but the rest of them were still there. Harry's car was waiting outside and he slipped into the backseat with a friendly goodbye aimed in their general direction.

It was cold, standing there on the pavement, and Malcolm pulled Connie closer, his own arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him from the side of her eye and shook her head with an exasperated smile. Colin and Lucas were still talking, their voices a little louder, and then Colin looked over at Malcolm and he looked so happy, so unlike the nervous chap he had been that morning, that even Connie murmured under her breath, "I think we've found a good one, don't you?"

"Mmm," Malcolm said, watching as Lucas and Colin took the first taxi that pulled up.

The next morning, when Lucas was beating his hangover with doughnuts and lemonade, when Connie was force-feeding Harry painkillers for his inevitable headache, Colin offered to make him and Malcolm the first cup of tea of the day and Malcolm knew everything would be alright.

That week, Malcolm learned some important things about his new colleague. Colin liked crosswords, especially the cryptic sort, and he was more than willing to share the satisfaction of having completed one with Malcolm. He didn't know much about poetry or the classics but he was willing to listen and he was willing to learn. He liked science fiction in all its incarnations and he could quote Tolkien word for word and he also, bizarrely, had rather a flair for cookery and played a mean game of poker. He was also really very good at his job, inventive and razor sharp, and by the end of the second week, they already had a short hand that infuriated Harry and amused everyone else, even Connie.

"Speak English, man!" Harry barked one morning, and Malcolm thought it was testament to how far Colin had come that he didn't flinch and instead smiled wickedly.

"Sorry, Harry," he said, "All we meant was that…"

Colin's first month, Colin's first year, passed in a blur and Malcolm wondered how he had ever coped without him. He'd been without a best friend for a long time, a title he had once considered bestowing on Harry, but in the end had not. Harry knew everything he could know about Malcolm. Malcolm knew everything he could know about Harry but it had taken time to build that. With Colin it had been easy.

So easy.

With Colin, he could make the gentle suggestion that he could help him to choose a better fitting pair of glasses and know it wouldn't be taken as an insult. Colin could come to his house, meet his mother, chat to her about baking, and never make it look as though he'd rather be somewhere else.

They could sit after a bad day and drink beer and whisky and listen to the radio play of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy' and know that nothing could get to them.

They could sit after a good day and play chess and watch 'Monty Python' and celebrate a victory that would only last as long as the lull.

After a year and a half, Connie was gone; after two, Lucas, and Malcolm missed them. Amelia transferred to Six and Harry hid in his office and Malcolm and Colin were left to welcome the newcomers, to welcome Tom and Zoe and Helen and to try and do as good a job as Lucas had done. It was never hard though. Malcolm could fake confidence like it was going out of fashion and Colin had the kindest smile and the gentlest voice and suddenly they had become the heart of the team and neither of them was sure how. The new people turned to them for help, for advice, for handling Harry, and it was a relief on the day that Tom finally understood their boss and could take over.

"Well, thank goodness for that," Colin breathed out, watching as Tom strode into Harry's office and immediately found the right thing to say that stopped Harry looking like he wanted to throw his chair at the wall, "Tiring, this running point, isn't it?"

"Exhausting," Malcolm agreed, his eyes following Colin as he left his desk and detoured to Malcolm's to pick up his mug, "It's my turn to make the tea."

"You stay right there, oh captain, my captain. I've got your back."

And as Colin wandered into the kitchenette, grinning idly at Helen who was already in there, and tossing two teabags into their almost matching Doctor Who mugs, Malcolm couldn't help but smile too.

"Oh my dear man," he murmured, "I do believe that you have."

_I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the  
whole of the rest of the earth,  
I dream'd that was the new city of Friends,  
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, it led the rest,  
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city,  
And in all their looks and words._

_- I Dream'd In A Dream-  
Walt Whitman_


End file.
